Flowers and Tattoos.

Adulting.

Moving to New York was something I wanted to do since I was twelve. Although, I'm not going to tell you about my past, no, this story is about the present. Right now I'm getting my whole arm tattooed. Do I need a reason? I hope not because I don't have one! "Just moved here huh?" The tattoo artist just asks me while puncturing my skin. "Yeah, just got out of college, now I'm trying to do this adult thing," I say. "Well getting a whole sleeve tattoo is not what I say Adulting is," he says back to me. "Hey, this is the best I can do for now; I'm not going to get married and have kids anytime soon. Plus I'm doing what I want, that has to be something." 

"Yeah, it sure is something, something stupid," he mumbles. "Oh really?" I ask, "Well you are the one that is letting me do this, you could have refused." He just looks at me, then looks down at my arm again. "Yeah, but that wouldn't get me any business would it?" He asks, "I like you," I say squinting my eyes "I know, I'm likable," he tells me. "Yeah, that's not why I like you. Seems to me we both have some issues." He frowns a little then shakes his head. "I'm not the one that is doing something stupid here." I roll my eyes. "I wish you would just finish now, just saying," I say. "I will if you stop talking," he says back. "You talked to me first. This is your fault!" The conversation ends like this for while, then he tells me he is done with his masterpiece on my arm. "Thanks, bro, here's my allowance," I say while handing him his money. "Thanks, you really owed me, that sucked up part of my life," He answers. "Hey, if you don't like your job so much just quit," I say holding up my arms, then turn around and walk out the door. 

Now I'm alone again. I bought an apartment the other day here, but haven't gone in. All my things got shipped here and it is in the house. Already decorated like I want it to by a girl on craigslist I found that has no life. Paypaled her and everything. I get a taxi and ask him to take me to the address of my house. "You just get that tattoo?" He asks me, kind of looking off the road, which kinda creeps me out, but alright. "Yeah," I say looking out the window. "Looks nice." He tells me and I nod not saying anything. I don't really want him to kill me by looking off the road forever. 

I pay the taxi man and get out the fastest I could.  I haven't died yet! I walk into my apartment and sit on my couch and turn on the TV. Man, I love New York.